


Traffic Violations and Other Romantic Gestures

by redscudery



Series: Redscudery's Rare Pair Bazaar [3]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: 221B Ficlet, Banter, Cunnilingus, F/M, Fandom Bicycle, Flirting, Het, Kissing, Older Woman/Younger Man, Oral Sex, Outdoor Sex, Pre-Canon, Semi-Public Sex, Summer, Summer Romance, Vaginal Sex, fandom bicycle Lestrade, sneaky Mrs. Hudson - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-07
Updated: 2015-02-07
Packaged: 2018-03-09 11:15:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 1,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3247616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redscudery/pseuds/redscudery
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's the summer of 1979, and Gregory Lestrade is a 22-year-old trainee police officer in a sleepy seaside town. He doesn't find giving out traffic tickets to careless holidaymakers particularly exciting... until he meets someone that seems to be doing it on purpose.</p><p>For the Let's Write Sherlock Challenge #18: First Times.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Hazelnut Chocolates

**Author's Note:**

  * For [doctornerdington](https://archiveofourown.org/users/doctornerdington/gifts).



Martha does see the no parking sign, but she really just will be a minute. It’s a pretty little chocolate shop that sells perfect hazelnut creams, and life is just too short to deprive herself of perfect hazelnut creams just because there’s no parking spot.

Of course, when she sees the beautifully shaped arse of a trainee police officer bent over the hood of her Fiat, she’s even happier she didn’t deprive herself. The only real downside is that she doesn’t dare grab it.

Yet.

“Oh, goodness, Cadet, what is the matter?” The flustered sound in her voice is real. That it’s at least in part because he’s stood up and turned around, and that he’s flawless, doesn’t matter.

“I’m sorry, ma’am, but this is a no parking zone. It has to be a ticket, you see.”

“I was just in for a minute…these chocolates…” she trails off, smiling, “Of course I understand, Cadet…?”

“Trainee Lestrade,” he answers, smiling tentatively. He’s young, all uncreased face and smooth cheeks, but there’s something in his eyes as he looks at her that knocks her momentarily out of her own confidence.

A challenge. Intriguing.

“But if I wanted to contest?” She watches for his reaction.

“My contact information is here.” Solid calm, no more.

As he gives her the ticket, their fingers brush.


	2. Rare Books

Well, not actually a rare book. More like an occasionally unavailable one. 

That it is slightly (very) pornographic is entirely beside the point, until she drops it near her car for him to pick up. He’s giving her another ticket- she’s parked in a loading zone, this time.

“Your book, ma’am,” He hands it over with the ticket.   
“Another one?” 

“Yes. The sign says ten minutes.” 

“Oh dear.” 

“I can’t bend the rules.”

“Of course not. It’s just.. Two tickets in one week.” She looks up at him, smiling, “Bad luck for me.” 

His sleek brown hair falls over big eyes that aren’t nearly as inscrutable as he thinks they are, especially as they flick back down to her book, and up again, quickly but thoroughly. She fiddles with the top button of her blouse. 

“Bad luck for you,” he says, almost not looking at all. 

“Have you read this?” This surprises him. The tips of his ears go red but he keeps his composure. How she would love to ruffle it, she thinks, preferably with her whole body. He’s simply delicious; his shoulders are broad but he’s still thin as a lathe and slightly gangly.   
He shakes his head no and turns away, and she puts her hands in her pockets as he goes to keep from touching his back.


	3. Police Corruption

Three times is not a coincidence. She’s actually parked in a proper spot this time, but when she comes out of the wine shop he’s right there, examining her broken taillight.

“Well, hello,” she says, “I’m a reformed character, see?”

“This is new, and it isn’t safe,” he says in an earnest voice. She cuts her eyes at him and he has the grace to look away. 

“I had a slight altercation with garden statuary.” This is true. The landlady at the inn she’s staying at has what is clearly a garden gnome fetish. Live and let live, she always says, but she wouldn’t want fifty gnomes lining her driveway. 

“I’ll have to give you a ticket. Bring the car in with a fixed taillight in 24 hours.”

“And do I come directly to you?”

“No, go to the desk officer.”

“That’s not much incentive.”

“Do it and I’ll buy you a pint. Or something. After work.” He blurts it out, his cheeks a little pink; he looks, briefly, as though he’s about to retract the invitation, but shakes his head and stands firm. 

She just looks at him. Goodness, he is beautiful. She wonders what he looks like out of that uniform. 

“Tonight. The Bee & Bard.” He’s sure.

“Yes.” She grins at him, and now she, too, is almost blushing.


	4. Bee-Stung

When he sees the Fiat illegally parked at the pub, he grins, tempted to go back for his ticket book. Bit unfair, he supposes, since he’s technically off duty. She deserves it, though.

His first sight of her erases that from his mind; she’s in a simple green sundress, slim and smiling. He means to be polite and a little distant, but she shakes his hand firmly and says “Bitter?” before he can compose himself.

They carry their pints to the terrace and sit in the soft darkness. She smiles, but doesn’t ask any questions; he’s suddenly torn between a desire to flee and a desire to know everything about her. 

“Do you…you don’t live here?” he asks, then takes a long pull.

She smiles again. 

“No, just a holiday. Don’t quite know what I’ll do next.”

“Between jobs?” He congratulates himself for sounding more adult.

“Something like that,” she says, and swallows half her beer. He watches her throat contract and he’s already hard.

“After this drink, I think we should take a walk,” she says. He can’t quite believe what he’s hearing.

“Of course,” he says. She grins and he sees all her teeth.

Their kisses that night provide Lestrade with wank material for eons. Martha, though, takes her ticket and plots all the way home, remembering his blush.


	5. Gavin, Gareth, Graham, George

Just before his lunch break the next day, he sees her car parked haphazardly near a postbox by the pier, door wide open, windshield already ticketed. 

He dashes to the vehicle. She’s not inside, thankfully… but then… where is she? He starts to search, frantic. 

“Cadet?” she calls, and he’s not a cadet, but he’s so glad to hear her that he doesn’t quibble, just leaps the bank and lands breathlessly on the beach. 

She’s right there, hair mussed, blouse open, skirt stained with grass—and safe. 

“What happened?” he asks, taking her by the shoulders and pulling her into the shelter of the pier. “Accident?”  
“No,” she smiles. “Trap.”

“Trap?” he asks, but she’s already on her knees. He’s not hard, how could he be, but then his flies are open and she’s running her mouth along his briefs, and the blood rushes to his cock.

“You…wait…” he stutters.

“Shh,” she hums. He subsides, because she’s taken him into her hand and is admiring him.

Then she takes him into her mouth, soft and expert. She slides her tongue around the head, tasting him, and her hand is on him. He comes hard and sudden, almost falling over. 

When he can speak again, he pulls her close. 

“Must go,” she whispers, “Come tomorrow, Gareth. Room A, Hollyhock Cottage, 244 Beachside.”

**Author's Note:**

> Of course, this is the first time Lestrade meets Mrs. Hudson. She is 45 to his 22, and her husband has recently been imprisoned for murder. She's taking a brief holiday, and, while there, she engages in one of her favourite pastimes...


End file.
